The Crippled Son-in-law? Try Immortal Emperor

006

"Go, quickly!" Lin Feng barked in a hushed, urgent tone, his knuckles turning white as he shoved his wooden staff aside. "They have already traced the surge of the storm. Do not worry about me."

"I am not leaving you behind to face them alone," Lanying whispered, her eyes flashing with deep worry as she stepped closer to his side. "The guards are nearly at the door."

"You must," Lin Feng insisted, his voice cutting through the dark like a knife. "Find Nina first. If you are captured, neither of us can save her."

Lanying bit her lower lip, her heart racing as she recognized the unyielding truth in his eyes. She immediately executed a rare concealment talisman, her ethereal silver figure dissolving into thin air.

Though the ancient invisibility magic was immensely exhausting to maintain, her hidden presence remained tightly cloaked as she slipped past the doorway. Lin Feng didn't waste another single fraction of a second.

He violently threw his body onto the cold stone floor, rolling through the shattered wood of the archive shelves. He dragged himself into a heap of rubble, pretending to gasp for air like a helpless victim.

"Over here! The vortex blew the roof clean off!" a guard yelled as the heavy iron doors were kicked open. A dozen enforcers rushed into the room, torches blazing furiously against the dark.

"Look! It's the cripple!" another guard shouted, pointing his sword at Lin Feng's trembling, dust-covered form. "How on earth did this garbage survive the execution pits?"

"The dark tornado must have pulled him straight out of the canyon," the head guard muttered, examining the broken ceiling. "He is incredibly lucky the gale slammed him down right here."

"What is the meaning of this absolute chaos?" a sharp, arrogant voice barked from the corridor. Lin Tian strode into the ruined archive, his expensive silk robes swirling around his ankles.

He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes bulging with immediate, intense fury as he spotted Lin Feng on the ground. "How is this useless fool still breathing? I watched him fall!"

"Young Master," the head guard reported, bowing low in respect. "The strange storm seems to have coincidentally carried him out of the abyss, just as it flung several patio tiles across the yard."

"A piece of trash like you dares to crawl back into our sight?" Lin Tian hissed, his face turning purple with rage. He immediately unsheathed his gleaming sword, raising it high.

"My sister has been in perfect, absolute peace ever since you were thrown into that hellish pit," Lin Tian roared. "I will finish what the execution canyon started!"

Lin Feng stared at the descending blade, hiding a cold smirk beneath his mask of terror. You think I sacrificed my meridians for her, yet you celebrate my death. How pathetic.

"Young Master, please stop your hand!" the head guard yelled, suddenly stepping between them and using his own steel blade to obstruct Lin Tian's furious downward slash.

"Get out of my way, servant!" Lin Tian bellowed, his eyes flashing with madness. "I will cut this cripple into pieces!"

"I cannot, Young Master!" the head guard pleaded, bowing until his forehead almost touched his knees. "His execution was personally ordered by the Patriarch himself. I may be strictly punished if he dies before the Patriarch learns of this situation."

Lin Tian’s chest heaved with unchecked fury, but he knew his father's wrath was far more dangerous than any insult. With a loud yell of frustration, he slammed his sword onto the stone floor.

"Fine! Let the old man deal with him later!" Lin Tian spat, kicking a chunk of broken wood at Lin Feng's ribs. "But since the cripple is here, he should make himself useful."

"Drag him to the arena grounds tonight," Lin Tian commanded, a maniacal, joyous grin spreading across his face. "The regional martial tournament is about to begin, and my disciples need a live punching bag."

"He won't survive a single round of martial training," Lin Tian muttered to himself, turning his back on the rubble. "And no one will blame us if a slave dies during a standard tournament demonstration."

"I must prepare well for the upcoming Ascension Ceremony," Lin Tian added boastfully, turning back to glare at the bleeding man. "Father promised that the most skilled son will receive an ultimate reward."

"A secret magic that will boost my current power by a hundred times!" the young master laughed. "I will do whatever it takes to be the one chosen on that day!"

As Lin Tian marched out of the room, Lin Feng’s eyes narrowed into deep, analytical slits. A magic that increases power by a hundred times? System, what is he talking about?

[Ding! System analysis initialized. The Patriarch is planning an Absolute Extraction and Cultivation Transfer.]

[Warning: The Patriarch cannot absorb the child’s Aether-Heart energy without first emptying his own body of his current cultivation, or his meridians will violently explode.]

So the old monster is simply planning to dump his old power into his favorite son before taking Nina's life, Lin Feng thought, his heart turning to stone. A perfect, disgusting cycle of greed.

A few hours later, the main courtyard of the Lin estate was buzzing with intense, loud anticipation. Hundreds of elite cultivators and regional guests sat around the massive stone arena, cheering for the young masters.

Lin Feng sat in the absolute lowest servant corner, a tattered rag pressed against his mouth as he coughed up fake blood. He looked completely ignored, a broken ghost in the festive crowd.

His mind was miles away, wondering if Lanying had successfully navigated the guards to locate Nina's hidden cell. Hold on, my little girl, he prayed silently. Daddy is right here.

Lin Tian stood proudly on the central stage, his aura flaring as he mocked the surrounding clans. "The Lin family line is supreme!" he shouted, his eyes suddenly locking onto the servant corner.

"Unlike some garbage bloodlines that produce nothing but crippled, live-in dogs!" Lin Tian yelled, pointing his finger directly at Lin Feng. The crowd burst into loud, mocking laughter.

"Disciple Chen!" Lin Tian barked, turning to his top elite student. "Drag that pathetic thief onto the arena stage. Let the guests see what happens to slaves who forget their place."

The audience cheered wildly, eager to witness a brutal, one-sided beating of a helpless cripple. Disciple Chen leaped onto the stage, a cruel smirk on his face as he drew his heavy iron sword.

"Get up, trash," Chen sneered, lunging forward with a sudden, lethal thrust aimed straight at Lin Feng's chest. The wind howled around the blade, promising a swift, bloody end.

Lin Feng didn't even lift his hands to defend himself, his posture remaining completely weak and limp. He simply shifted his weight by a single inch, his bare foot touching the dirt.

With a tiny, invisible movement of his toe, he flicked a small pebble across the ground, coating it in an undetectable thread of his suppressed gravity Qi. The pebble shot forward like a bullet.

The stone struck Disciple Chen’s left knee mid-dash, the immense gravitational weight instantly locking his joint. To the entire crowd, it looked like the genius had simply tripped over his heavy silk robes.

Chen lost his balance entirely, flying face-first across the platform and smashing violently into a massive stone pillar. A loud, sickening crunch echoed through the arena as his jaw shattered completely.

The disciple collapsed onto the dirt, completely unconscious and pooling blood, his sword clattering away. The entire audience went dead silent, the cheers dying instantly in their throats.

"What an absolute embarrassment!" Lin Tian roared from the viewing pavilion, his face twisting into pure, unbridled rage. "Get out of the way! I will handle this clumsy waste myself!"

Lin Tian leaped onto the arena stage, his full, explosive cultivation flaring to life as he unleashed a wave of pressure. "You think pure luck will save you from me, cripple?" he shrieked.

Lin Feng feigned absolute terror, stumbling backward toward the edge of the platform while waving his hands frantically. "Please, Young Master! It was an accident! I didn't do anything!"

"Die, you absolute blight upon our family!" Lin Tian bellowed, swinging his heavy claymore in a massive, horizontal arc meant to cut Lin Feng completely in half.

As the heavy blade rushed toward his neck, Lin Feng subtly redirected the kinetic force with a tiny, invisible pulse of Ashen Qi from his palm. The air didn't even ripple.

The kinetic feedback-loop multiplied, and Lin Tian’s own claymore rebounded violently against his own chest armor. The shockwave shattered his ribs, sending a fountain of bright blood spraying into the dirt.

Lin Tian flew backward, crashing hard against the arena wall, gasping for air as his eyes rolled back. "Pure, clumsy luck!" the clan elders yelled from their seats, completely confused and terrified.

The crowd began to panic, unable to comprehend how a legendary genius had just defeated himself twice through "sheer misfortune." Lin Feng fell to his knees, trembling and coughing into his rag.

“You are so incredibly lucky, Lin Tian,” Lin Feng thought, his dark eyes watching the young master struggle to stand. “If my master hadn't warned me, I would have ‘accidentally’ ended your pathetic life right here.”

Lin Tian, pushed to the brink of absolute madness by the public humiliation, furiously snatched a spear from a nearby guard. "I don't care about the Patriarch's orders! I will kill you now!"

He lunged forward with a wild, crazed scream, but the head guard quickly met Lin Tian's spear with his own iron sword. The weapons clashed with a loud, metallic ring that shook the stage.

"I am deeply sorry, Young Master!" the head guard shouted, holding his ground firmly. "But I cannot let you execute him before the Patriarch emerges from his seclusion. The law is absolute."

"Insolent dog!" Lin Tian screamed, spitting blood onto the stone as he realized the guards wouldn't back down. With a final, furious glare at Lin Feng, he stormed out of the arena.

"Get the trash out of my sight!" Lin Tian’s voice echoed from the corridor. "Throw him in the deepest cell until Father wakes up!"

The head guard sighed, gesturing to two enforcers. "Bind his legs and drag him down to the lower dungeons. Do not let any other family members near his cell tonight."

Lin Feng allowed them to rough him up, his mind already calculating the odds. “Just two guards dragging me down a dark hallway. This will be far too easy to handle once we are clear.”

They moved down the narrow, damp stone corridor beneath the pavilion, the torches flickering weakly against the wet walls. Suddenly, a hurried figure turned the corner, stumbling blindly through the dark.

The hurried figure slammed directly into the first enforcer, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her silver robes rustled heavily in the dim light. The hood of her cloak fell back entirely, revealing the stunning, panicked, and deathly weak face of Lanying.

The two enforcers jumped back in pure surprise, their iron blades clearing their scabbards with a sudden, sharp hiss that echoed off the wet stones. "Who the hell are you?" the first enforcer barked, his face twisting in confusion as he thrust his flickering torch straight toward her trembling form. "Where did you crawl out from?"

Lin Feng's eyes widened in absolute shock as he looked at the Saintess, his fingers instantly tightening around his wooden staff. Lanying? What is she doing back here? Did something go wrong with Nina?

Lanying opened her mouth to warn him, but her brilliant silver eyes suddenly dimmed, her knees buckled beneath her silver robes, and she fell helplessly toward the cold dungeon floor directly before the guards' unsheathed blades.